Memory Lost
by Ashliebelle
Summary: Hermione wakes, unable to remember her fifth year at Hogwarts. Harry is dead and she is wrongfully accused of murdering him. REVIEWS: 'It isn't your ordinary Harry Potter fic' 'Awesome writing and an incredibly awesome plot'
1. Awake

"Hermione! Run away, hurry!" Hermione heard Harry's strained yells through the blinding rain. She followed the sound of his voice, ignoring what it was saying. She refused to let her best friend traipse alone in the forbidden forest with a murderer.  
  
Large raindrops pummeled through the trees and stung the bare skin on Hermione's arms. She searched desperately for Harry, determined to help him. He wouldn't be able to fight alone, especially not with the injuries he had withstood. Hermione saw a splash of blood on a nearby bush before the flowing rains washed it away. He had been there only moments ago. She followed the dissipating trail of red liquid deeper into the thick trees.  
  
Minutes later, Hermione's heart leapt with relief when she saw a shadowy figure running in her direction.  
  
"Harry. Harry!" She waved her arms in the air, so he could see her more clearly. The figure paused, then came over to her. As he emerged from the cloud of rain, Hermione gasped and stepped backward. The large muscles and narrow, evil eyes didn't belong to Harry. The man smirked and pointed a wand at her.  
  
  
  
The rain engulfed Hermione, blocking all of her senses. She felt curiously light stepping over a thick, wet branch. She couldn't hear anything at all, except the sound of blood pumping through her head. Hermione walked into a small clearing, nearly tripping over a heap of cloth at her feet. She looked down. A halo of blood surrounded the head of Harry Potter. He was breathing, but just barely.  
  
The rain began to ease, and Hermione could saw the bushes beside her shake furiously. The same shadowy figure was crouched behind the wet branches a few meters away. Hermione saw the wave of his wand, and then a flash of bright green light. She was thrown backwards into the grass, her ears ringing. She turned her head to the left where Harry's pale face was only feet away from her. He had stopped breathing.  
  
Hot tears mixed with the rain and blood on Hermione's face. She tried to reach out to Harry, to close his empty, staring eyes. She couldn't. Lightening flashed and Hermione closed her own eyes, sinking into darkness.  
  
  
  
Someone was crying. The sobs woke Hermione from a horrendously long and painful sleep. She opened her eyes slowly, squinting in the bright sunlight. She was in a bed, with a window on her right and a curtain on her left.  
  
Hermione realized that she was in the hospital wing; but why, she didn't know. The crying person was a woman, and Hermione could hear words of comfort being whispered by a sad male voice. There were more than just those two people in the room, though. Hermione heard shifting footsteps and faint murmurs and the blowing of a nose every now and then. It wasn't until she smelled the flowers that she understood what was happening. The room smelled like and had the same oppressive hush as the room where she attended her Aunt Margaret's funeral visitation.  
  
For one crazy moment, Hermione thought that maybe she was dead, but realized that if she was, she probably wouldn't have such a terrible headache.  
  
Madam Pomfrey poked a sad face around the curtain and wordlessly handed Hermione a steaming mug. Hermione winced as she drank the bitter potion.  
  
"How are you feeling?" Madam Pomfrey asked, feeling Hermione's forehead.  
  
"My head hurts," she confessed, "and I'm confused. what's going on?" Madam Pomfrey conjured a cold cloth and placed it over Hermione's eyebrows. As she bent towards her, Hermione saw that Madam Pomfrey was crying.  
  
"Just rest." The nurse's voice was gentler than Hermione had ever heard it. Not that Madam Pomfrey wasn't sympathetic, but she had a presence of firm nurturing.  
  
Before any more questions could be asked, Madam Pomfrey disappeared behind the curtain.  
  
The last thing Hermione wanted to do was rest, the cold cloth did nothing to ease her headache, and her curiosity began to get the best of her. She got out of the bed, her bare feet hesitant to touch the cold stone floor. Without honestly caring what everyone would think of her in pajamas, she stepped around the curtain.  
  
There were at least a dozen people crowded around one of the beds. Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey, Ron, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were just a few of them. Before Hermione could find out what was going on, Ron saw her standing there and walked over to her. Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Ron was crying. She had never seen him cry before, not even when he had broken his leg during their third year.  
  
Ron stood in front of her, trying to say something, but unable to make any audible sound. His chin shook as a large tear made its way down his cheek. Hermione felt herself begin to cry, just seeing Ron so upset. Not really knowing what to do, she placed a hand on his shoulder. Ron pursed his lips, and shook his head slowly.  
  
"Oh, Hermione!" he sobbed, and pulled her into a hug. She felt hot tears trickle onto her neck and she became extraordinarily uncomfortable. Not only had Ron never cried like this, but he'd also never hugged her like this.  
  
"Ron, what's wrong?" Hermione said, wiggling out of his embrace. He looked at her oddly through his bloodshot eyes as if it were blatantly obvious what was wrong and she was asking an unreasonable question.  
  
"Hermione, go back to your bed." Madam Pomfrey's hand appeared on her shoulder. Everyone surrounding the bed suddenly noticed that Hermione was there. Ignoring everybody's strange stares, she looked past them, at the bed surrounded with flowers. A tuft of untidy hair poked out of the sheets.  
  
Madam Pomfrey began to shoo Hermione back to her bed.  
  
"Wait! Who is that?" Hermione said, pointing hysterically. "It's not. it's not." Madam Pomfrey led her away. Hermione couldn't say it. It couldn't be Harry.  
  
"NO!" Hermione wrenched herself from Madam Pomfrey's grasp and ran over to the bed. The people parted like the Red Sea as she approached.  
  
It was Harry. His pale hands folded on his chest, which lacked the rising and falling of life. His scar stood out vividly on his ghostly white face. Hermione was sobbing silently, and reached out to trace his scar with a shaking finger.  
  
"Keep her away!" someone shouted. A flurry of hands grabbed her and began to pull her back.  
  
"Wait! Stop!" she cried. "I just want to say goodbye!". The more she struggled, the harder the hands gripped her arms. She caught a quick glimpse of the two men holding her. One looked mousy and a bit withered with age, but his strong grip contradicted his looks. The other was built like a gorilla and could have easily held Hermione's arms on his own. Neither of them were familiar to her.  
  
She soon found herself back in her bed, crying hysterically. What was going on?  
  
Harry's still chest had etched itself into her memory, and she was unable to forget the image of his lifeless body lying in that bed. Her head pounded painfully and her eyes burned with tears. Every breath was a sob as she tried to think rationally, but her thoughts began to melt together incomprehensively.  
  
All she wanted to do was to be with the people on the other side of the curtain. She wanted Mrs. Weasley to wrap her in a tight hug, and to listen to Dumbledore's soothing advice. She wished she could return Ron's embrace, and touch Harry's white face.  
  
But she couldn't go back. The two men stood at the foot of her bed with their backs to her, guarding. Hermione shook her head in disgust, realizing that they weren't guarding her for her safety. They were making sure she didn't go anywhere.  
  
She couldn't figure out what she might have done to deserve this. Hermione laid back, closed her eyes, and tried to recall what had happened that made her go to the hospital wing.  
  
As she wiped away hot tears, Hermione racked her brain, attempting to remember with all her might, but it was like something out of a dream from many years ago. She recollected the summer after her fourth year, going to Vicktor Krum's mansion and meeting his family. She remembered returning home, and then buying supplies for her fifth year. She vaguely remembered getting on the Hogwarts Express, and recalled that it had made an unexpected stop, and that was it.  
  
Something had happened.. Somehow, Harry had died.  
  
After a few minutes, anger began to swell up inside of Hermione. The men weren't leaving, and she could hear Dumbledore's voice close by. How could everyone just let her be treated like that? Why didn't someone help her?  
  
She swung her legs out of her bed and stood up. One of the two men turned around, brandishing his wand at Hermione. Hermione ignored him, and began to walk around him.  
  
He stepped sideways, blocking her way. He pointed his wand into her face.  
  
"Get back into bed." He said calmly. The other man turned and pulled out his wand. Hermione just blankly stared at them. She tried to push her way past him, but he grabbed her harshly and wouldn't let her get by.  
  
"Ow! Stop it!" she said, pushing his hand off of her arm. Her painful yell must have carried over the curtain, because the voices behind it became silent.  
  
"Help me!" she cried, knowing that everyone would hear her. If she couldn't go to them, she would make them come to her. The man tried to push her back into bed, but she wasn't going to be pushed like that anymore. She slapped his hand away from her, and tried to run around him again. To her dismay, nobody was coming around the curtain. The man was obviously fed up with her. He pinned her arms to her side painfully and picked her up. She kicked wildly at the man's groin, but unfortunately didn't make contact.  
  
"Put her down," she heard someone say softly. Over the man's shoulder, Hermione saw Dumbledore's white hair. She was lowered to the ground, and the man stepped back. Hermione looked at Dumbledore and gave him a look of gratitude, but was taken back at what she saw in his expression. His eyes were absent of familiarity; the twinkle was gone. Instead, the deepest of sorrow seemed to be etched into his brow, and his eyes were very red. It seemed like his soul had broken in two.  
  
"What's going on?" Madam Pomfrey appeared beside Dumbledore. "Hermione, back in bed!" Hermione climbed in almost automatically, knowing that she could never win against Madam Pomfrey. The nurse pushed past the men, and helped tuck the sheets around Hermione.  
  
"I don't care what terrible things she has done," Madam Pomfrey scolded the men, "she's still a patient at my hospital and won't be treated that way!"  
  
"Wait!" Hermione asked wildly. "What did I do?"  
  
Dumbledore gave her a stare that Hermione had never experienced; a stare of blatant accusation. "That's what we should be asking you," he said. "Or, more appropriately, asking 'why?'."  
  
"Oh, no," Madam Pomfrey interjected. "She's still a patient. No questions until after she's recovered."  
  
"Recovered from what?" Hermione said, almost yelling in her impatience.  
  
"Calm down, Hermione," Madam Pomfrey ordered. "See," she said to Dumbledore, "she doesn't even know what happened."  
  
"I think she does," Dumbledore said. "She's been acting strangely all year." he shook his head dejectedly and sighed to himself. "I should have seen this coming."  
  
"All year?" Hermione said, her jaw wide with bewilderment. "Professor Dumbledore, the year has just begun!"  
  
Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore looked at each other, then at Hermione, startled. Madam Pomfrey pulled up a chair, and sat down at Hermione's side. Dumbledore took a step closer. The men, who had retreated from the foot of the bed to the opposite wall, turned their heads to hear better.  
  
"What are you talking about, Hermione?" Madam Pomfrey asked gently.  
  
Hermione looked from Madam Pomfrey's face to Dumbledore's. What did they mean what was she talking about? Dumbledore's gaze seemed to pierce into her very soul, making her feel guilty even though she knew she had done nothing wrong.  
  
"It's. it's not the beginning of the first term?" Hermione asked quietly. "Then when is it?"  
  
Dumbledore stared at her, almost in repulsion, and quickly walked over to Madam Pomfrey, helping her out of her chair. He led her away from the bed. "She's lying. I'm afraid you mustn't listen to her." Hermione's mouth dropped, hearing his loud whispers. Madam Pomfrey left, and Dumbledore spoke to the guards.  
  
"Don't let her leave. We'll have a more secure location for her soon. If she gets violent, use whatever means necessary to restrain her. Don't let anyone in."  
  
Dumbledore then turned to Hermione, whose hands had begun to shake as they wiped strands of tear-soaked hair from her cheeks.  
  
"Hermione, I seriously suggest you begin to tell the truth, because an unhappy future awaits you and lies will only make it worse."  
  
Dumbledore walked around the curtain and out of sight. A state of grief that Hermione had never experienced before began to swell inside her, beginning at her throat. She felt like she was choking. Blinded by tears, Hermione rolled to her side and stared towards the window. She curled herself into a ball underneath the covers and cried herself to sleep. 


	2. Grumpki

"Harry, don't go, please! I'm serious this time!"  
  
"I have to, Hermione. If I don't, he'll just kill more people."  
  
"Including you! Harry, go to the hospital wing, your arm looks horrible and it's bleeding everywhere-"  
  
"No! I'm going after him now!"  
  
"Don't!"  
  
Hermione shot up out of her fitful sleep. Cold sweat drenched the brown hair on her forehead, and her heart was beating furiously. Her eyes were swollen from crying, stinging as the cool air from the window touched them.  
  
Wiping the perspiration off her face with the sheets, Hermione spotted a young man in the corner. It was a guard with his shoes off and his head lolled to one side in sleep. Ever so slowly, memories began to spill into her like warm molasses, coating everything that might have begun to feel pleasant.  
  
Hermione shook herself from the thick daze. She was still in the hospital wing, but the curtain was gone. The only people in the whole room were her and the young guard, who had started to drool out of the corner of his mouth.  
  
The bed that Harry had been in was made, and there was no sign that anyone was ever there, except a few trodden-on flower pedals.  
  
For a brief moment, Hermione thought she was going to start crying again, but she didn't. She couldn't. She felt like a dry sponge, like someone had stolen all of the moisture from her body. Even if she wanted to, she would not have been able to force any tears out.  
  
Hermione wanted answers, and realized that crying wasn't going to get her any, so she quietly slipped out from under the covers, making her way to the door. She could find someone to help her, even if Dumbledore and a few others weren't on her side.  
  
She hadn't gone more than a few steps when a rather large brown bird perched itself on the windowsill. It started to squawk shrilly, eying the food tray next to Hermione's bed. The guard stirred in his chair.  
  
"Shhhh!" Hermione hissed, and began to wave her arms above her head in an attempt to scare the bird away.  
  
"Squawk!" it answered sharply.  
  
Hermione groaned inwardly, and took another look at the guard. He wasn't sleeping so deeply any more; his socked left foot began twitching erratically. One sound more and he'd be fully awake, Hermione imagined. She quickly ran to the tray and ripped off a bite of toast and threw it at the bird. The toast sailed past the bird's head, and he flew away to get it. Hermione sighed in relief and put the remaining piece of bread back on the plate.  
  
Her hand accidentally touched the glass of juice, and before she knew it, the floor was littered with shards of juicy, sticky glass. She silently cursed herself as the guard woke.  
  
". wha--?" The guard's eyes drifted open and his unfocused gaze landed on Hermione. With his eyes half shut he smiled at her, and then let his head droop again.  
  
Suddenly, as if just realizing that Hermione was out of bed, the guard jumped up and pulled out his wand.  
  
"Watch out!" Hermione said, trying to warn him of the glass.  
  
"Don't you move!" The guard said, pointing a finger at Hermione. "Stay where you are! I don't want any trouble!"  
  
"But I was going to-"  
  
"Don't move, I said!" He took a step towards her, and Hermione grimaced as his socked feet mingled with the glass.  
  
The guard stopped, then looked down at his feet. His eyes widened as his blue socks began to soak purple.  
  
"What did you do to the floor?" He exclaimed, backing into his chair where he started to examine his feet.  
  
"I was trying to tell you, but you wouldn't listen." Hermione crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. She normally wouldn't have talked to an adult like that, but the guard couldn't have been more than 19 years old, and he was being rude. Hermione, careful not to step on the glass, sat on her bed and swung her legs to the other side, which was mostly glass-free, and walked over to the guard.  
  
"What are you doing? Stay where you are." The guard was obviously very jumpy.  
  
"Well I was going to help you with the glass in your feet," Hermione answered.  
  
The guard looked at Hermione with a furrowed brow, as if unsure what to make of her. "Okay." he said with thick hesitation.  
  
Hermione walked over to the chair and crouched to her knees. She began to take off his right sock when he gasped, bit his lip and shut his eyes. She paused, watching him with fascination and amusement.  
  
He opened one of his eyes. "Well? Hurry up. It hurts!"  
  
'What a baby,' Hermione thought as she peeled one bloody sock off, then the other.  
  
"I'm going to need your wand," she said, holding out her hand. The guard didn't move. "Okay, fine. I'll just pull out every piece one by one."  
  
"Okay!" The guard handed her his wand. "Just don't try anything funny."  
  
"Don't worry, I lost my sense of humor years ago." Hermione waved the wand. "Detergeo!"  
  
The miniscule shards of glass melted away and the skin healed instantly.  
  
"There," She said, handing him the wand. He was reluctant to take it back from her, acting as if she would bite him if he wasn't careful. Hermione went back to her bed carefully and sat on top of it, pulling her knees to her chest. She could have run for it at any time while he was injured, but she reasoned that she wouldn't have gotten far after he had woken up. She sighed to herself, and glanced up. The guard was staring at her oddly.  
  
"What?" Hermione said, shrugging.  
  
"Nothing," said the guard, putting his wand away. "It's just, well, you're a lot nicer than I thought you would be."  
  
"You've never met me before," Hermione said incredulously. "Do you always try to determine what a person is like just by watching them sleep?"  
  
"No!" he said defensively. "But your reputation doesn't compliment your personality very well," he continued in a more calm tone, "that's all."  
  
"Reputation?" Hermione let her knees down so that one leg was off the bed and the other was folded underneath her. "What do you mean?"  
  
The guard raised one of his eyebrows. "You are a murderer. What did you expect me to think of you?"  
  
"A murderer!" Hermione almost laughed. "I'm not a murderer. I don't know where you got that idea, but I definitely-"  
  
"Albus Dumbledore told me." The guard crossed his arms. Hermione shook her head in disbelief. Professor Dumbledore wouldn't start a rumor like that.  
  
"Well, you must have heard wrong," Hermione said, hands on hips. "I've never killed anyone."  
  
"Right," the guard said, sarcastically. "From now on I'm going to believe you instead of Albus Dumbledore. He told everyone about how you've been trying to get him kicked out of the school."  
  
"What?" Hermione exclaimed. "I would never-"  
  
"Yeah, he told everyone," he interrupted. "You've been trying to keep it a secret for the past year, but he said you made some special deals with outside sources. I guess he didn't know that deal would include murder."  
  
"You're making this up!" Hermione yelled. "This is just a big joke isn't it? Murderer. Ha! If I'm a murderer, then who did I kill?"  
  
The guard's sarcasm dropped instantly and his lips became very thin.  
  
"You killed Harry Potter."  
  
Hermione stared at the guard. What did he mean she killed Harry? He didn't actually think that she would do something like that. of course, he didn't know that they were best friends.  
  
"I would never do a thing like that," Hermione said with narrowed eyes.  
  
"According to Dumbledore, you would, and did."  
  
"Really? Well, listen Mr., uh, what's your name?"  
  
"Josh Grumpki"  
  
"Listen, Mr. Grumpki, I don't appreciate being wrongfully accused of killing my best friend!" Hermione was seething with anger. "You don't even know me! I wake up and you're telling me all this stuff that's happened all year, but the last thing I can remember happened on the Hogwart's Express! How would you feel, huh, if you woke up and your best friend was dead? Or better yet, you find out he's dead and everyone thinks you killed him!"  
  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Josh said shaking his head. "Calm down. Just calm down a minute." He seemed to become genuinely concerned all of a sudden. "What do you mean you don't remember?"  
  
"I just don't remember." Hermione said plainly. "I don't know exactly why I don't. but I don't."  
  
Josh looked at her curiously. "Professor Dumbledore told me that you might start trying to convince me of that."  
  
"I'm not lying!" she said, almost pleadingly.  
  
"How can I be sure?" Josh was obviously torn. Hermione could sense his need to perform his duty: guard the murderer, but she could also hear something in his tone of voice, something that was desperately hoping that she was telling the truth.  
  
"Harry Potter was my best friend, I wouldn't just kill him, would I?"  
  
Josh bit his upper lip and stared into Hermione's eyes, searching for the answer. He looked down, and shrugged. "I don't know."  
  
Hermione groaned loudly and shoved her pillow off her bed harshly. She let herself fall onto the sheets. How could she prove to anyone that she was innocent? How do you prove that you've lost your memory? When someone thinks you're a liar, there's no way to tell them the truth.  
  
Suddenly, Hermione jerked up.  
  
"I know!" She said. "The truth potion! Oh, what's it called?"  
  
She looked at Josh and shook her head with a total loss of the potion's name.  
  
He shrugged and said, "Don't ask me, I dropped out of my wizarding school when I was 16." Hermione sighed. It wasn't like her at all to forget the name of a potion like that. Whatever it was that made her lose her memory must have been bad.  
  
"Hey." Josh said, lost in thought. "Isn't there something you do to a wand to make it reproduce its last spells?"  
  
"Oh yeah!" Hermione said, nodding. "Prior Incantato." At least she hadn't forgotten everything.  
  
"If what you're saying is true, then your wand will be perfectly clean!" Josh actually seemed excited that there was a chance of clearing Hermione's name. Perhaps it was only because he was starting to believe her, or maybe because his kind disposition was beginning to show, but she was starting to trust Josh more and more.  
  
"Listen," he said, leaning close, "I'm not really supposed to do this, but I can't think of another way to make it happen."  
  
"What?" She asked.  
  
"I'm going to try and get Prior Incantato performed on your wand," he whispered. "My brother is an Auror. I can tell him about it."  
  
"Why aren't you supposed to do that?" Hermione whispered back.  
  
"Because it's getting emotionally involved." He looked at the door to make doubly sure that no one was around. "Technically, I'm not even part of the case. I'm just the guard. But if I can convince my brother, he'll make it happen." Josh shot her a smile, which was surprisingly handsome.  
  
For the first time since she had woken up, Hermione felt a surge of relief; it was like a huge weight lifting from her chest. She had the urge to give Josh a hug for everything. She managed to contain herself, though, and kept her celebrating to a minimum.  
  
Then, Josh's words began to echo in her head strangely. "Emotionally involved." Did that mean what Hermione thought it meant?  
  
She was about to ask him something, but he held up his hand to silence her, looking nervously at the door.  
  
"Someone's coming!" He hissed. "Lay back down!"  
  
Hermione threw the sheets over her legs, and picked up her pillow, which had fallen on the floor. Josh hurried back to his chair in the corner, trying to look alert, but not too alert.  
  
No sooner had Hermione's head touched her pillow when the door to the hospital wing swung open. She closed her eyes, feigning sleep, which probably wasn't the best idea because she couldn't see what was going on in the rest of the room. She heard footsteps on the stone floor as a group of people entered the room.  
  
"What's the problem, sir?" She heard Josh question, his voice deeper and authoritative.  
  
"We're relocating, like I informed you of earlier, Grumpki," a baritone voice answered.  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
She heard more shuffling of feet, and someone prodded her back.  
  
"Wake up. You're being moved elsewhere." Before Hermione had a chance to even pretend to wake up, she was pulled off the bed.  
  
"Ouch!" The glass buried itself in the soles of her feet. They wouldn't let her away from the glass, so she kept stepping on it more and more.  
  
"What is all this?" the burly man with the baritone voice asked. Pieces of glass crunched under his heavy shoes.  
  
"Please! Ow! I accidentally dropped a glass of juice." Hermione tried to reach down to one foot, but a guard was holding both of her wrists.  
  
"Accidentally, eh?" the huge man bent down a picked up a particularly large, sharp piece between his index finger and thumb. "This looks like it could be used for a weapon." He glanced sideways at Hermione.  
  
Josh, who had been standing in the corner the whole time with a pained look on his face, pulled out his wand and walked over to Hermione.  
  
"Hold up your foot," he said.  
  
"What are you doing, Grumpki?" the large man asked skeptically.  
  
Josh paused for a moment. "I don't think Dumbledore wants his hallways filled with bloody footprints, sir." Baritone Man shrugged, then nodded.  
  
"Detergeo!"  
  
Hermione felt her foot clear up and the pain diminish. Josh smiled at her barely, before straightening back up.  
  
"Dungeons," The man boomed at the guard holding Hermione's arms. "He'll show you the way." He gestured to a withered old man standing at the door, a bony cat encircling his ankles. It was Mr. Filch. Hermione was pushed towards the door, and she had no other choice but to go. She did manage to look back at Josh, but his head was buried in his hands. There was nothing he would be able to do to stop them.  
  
Hermione began to trip over her feet on the way out the door, but the man kept going, holding her arms tightly against her body.  
  
'I'm being put in the dungeons,' Hermione realized. She remembered from Hogwarts, A History that the dungeons hadn't been used for imprisonment for over two hundred years. Professor Binns had taken his class on a mini field trip to the deep dungeons before. Hermione had actually seen the chains that were used to keep the prisoners against the wall.  
  
She began to shake all over, and she felt her breathing become uneven. The ground looked so very far away. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. A growing rage began to replace her fear as they walked. She tried to yank her wrists out of the guard's hands, but they were inhumanly strong. She tried again, but the guard held even tighter.  
  
Before then, Hermione had always felt that if the situation arose, she would be able to muster enough strength to get away from a person trying to force her somewhere. She had been severely mistaken. The moment she began to get violent, she heard wands being whisked through the air and spells going along with them. Her arms (which had begun throwing useless punches) were wrenched behind her back painfully, forming an X with her hands near her shoulder blades. It felt like there was a huge metal sheet wrapped around her whole torso, pinning her arms to her back.  
  
"Don't try that again," the guard warned, a twinge of amusement ringing in his voice.  
  
Walking down the stairs, Hermione's mind became more and more clouded. She wished Ron was there with her, or maybe even Josh. She could almost feel the hatred emitting from the guard like heat. With a rush of grief, Hermione realized that who she really wanted there was Harry. Harry would have been able to fix everything. Where was Ron? What was he doing to stop this?  
  
Nothing. Hermione was alone. Josh was the only beacon of hope in a world that had turned black.  
  
'Please do something, Josh,' Hermione silently wished. 'Please.' 


	3. Snape's Secret

Chapter 3  
  
Hermione massaged her sore arms as the heavy dungeon door closed. The all- stone room was chillier than the rest of the castle, and the only light came from a torch in the corner. She was relieved to find that she wasn't going to be chained to anything, but it was just a small relief after what had just happened. Everyone in the school, it seemed, had somehow heard the rumors of Hermione's murdering streak.  
  
Embarrassment was still coursing through her, but it wasn't from the other students whispering about her in the corridors. Hermione had grown increasingly used to people saying bad things about her over the years. It also wasn't from the snide comments flowing from Filch. She had learned to ignore everything he said.  
  
No, the worst part was when they walked by the Great Hall. A group of Ravenclaw first years sitting near the door had been crouched in a huddle, but Hermione could hear their loud whispers.  
  
"You do it!"  
  
"No way! It was your idea."  
  
"Come on! Get her back for what she did. I dare you. I'm serious, you won't get in trouble. You should have heard what the teachers were saying about her. Heck, I bet they would want to do it."  
  
"Okay, fine. Give it here."  
  
Before she knew it, a glob of pudding landed in Hermione's hair.  
  
"That's for Harry!" Someone yelled heatedly. She couldn't wipe the blob away because her arms were still pinned behind her back, so it just slowly dribbled down her forehead and into one of her eyes. She asked the guard to stop because it started stinging like mad, but he just ignored her. Filch showed no sympathy either, but that was no big surprise.  
  
After she was shut in the dungeon and her arms were freed, Hermione dared to touch the sticky mess of hair in order to survey the damage. It was pretty disgusting. Her eyelashes were sticking together, but she did manage to get most of it out.  
  
She began to pace back and forth in the tiny room. The most terrible thing about the dungeon was that there was nothing to distract her from her own awful thoughts.  
  
'Even the teachers all think that I'm guilty.'  
  
She counted her steps. The room was five paces wide and six paces deep.  
  
'Where is Ron? Doesn't he care about me?'  
  
If she walked diagonally across the room, she could take 7 steps.  
  
'Will Josh remember to ask his brother?'  
  
Diagonally is spelled almost exactly like "Diagon Alley"  
  
'And if he does, will his brother believe him?'  
  
Hermione sank to the floor and rubbed her pulsing temples, trying to massage away her pounding headache. She didn't want to think. for what seemed like the first time in her life, Hermione didn't want to sit and contemplate the workings of the world around her. For the first time she didn't want to question the actions of others. She just wanted to wake up from the terrible nightmare that had become her life.  
  
She began to shiver in her thin hospital wing pajamas. Sitting on the cold stone floor seemed to rob the heat from her body faster than a freezing spell. Hermione stood up, folded her arms across her chest, and walked some more.  
  
Hours passed. She stayed standing until her legs got too tired to hold her up anymore. She knew it was 9:00 pm when the torch in the corner dimmed to half intensity. All the torches in the school corridors dimmed at the same time.  
  
Hermione's stomach grumbled miserably. She hadn't eaten all day, but it wasn't until she was by herself when she started to feel the pangs of hunger that had previously been covered up with grief.  
  
Then, she heard footsteps outside of her cell. She stood up on aching legs and trotted to the door, then stood on her tiptoes to try and see out of the barred opening, which was a little above her head.  
  
Hermione saw the top of a man's head go by. She could tell by its greasy quality that it was Professor Snape.  
  
She ran her fingers through her hair, forgetting that it was doused in a sticky mess. She wiped her hands on the pants of her pajamas. The footsteps were nearing the end of the corridor, and Hermione didn't know what to do. she was going to ask whoever it was for something to eat, but since it was Snape.  
  
Her stomach growled again and her decision was made.  
  
"Wait!" she called, poking one of her hands through the bars so Snape would know where she was. "Professor Snape, wait!" She waved her hand back and forth.  
  
The footsteps stopped. Hermione feared that he would just walk away, and when the clunk of his footsteps continued, she thought that he did. Surprisingly, though, they were getting louder. She stopped waving her hand, and withdrew it back into her cell.  
  
"Is that you in there, Granger?" his oily voice questioned.  
  
"Yes, sir. I've been in here for hours, and I haven't had anything to eat."  
  
There was a pause. "So?"  
  
"So. I'm really hungry, and I'm afraid they've forgotten about me."  
  
"You think it's a mistake that they haven't fed you?" Hermione could tell by the cruel amusement in his voice that Snape obviously didn't think it was an accident.  
  
"They're. they're not going to starve me are they?" Hermione voiced her terrified thoughts without seriously thinking about who she was talking to.  
  
Snape didn't say anything and he began to walk away.  
  
"Wait!" Hermione yelled, sticking her hand through the bars and waving it desperately. "Wait, please!" The footsteps reached the end of the corridor, and faded away. Hermione sunk to the ground again, grunting angrily. 'Snape's just scaring me' she decided. 'Dumbledore would never.' but then she remembered. Dumbledore wasn't on her side anymore.  
  
But he wouldn't starve a student, would he? He probably wouldn't even starve Voldemort if he had the chance.  
  
Even so, Hermione decided it was time to begin planning a way to escape, when there was a soft knock at the door.  
  
"Miss Hermione, yes?" A high-pitched voice, almost as soft as the knock, met Hermione's ears. It was a house elf.  
  
"Yes?" She answered cautiously.  
  
There was a popping noise, and Dobby the house elf appeared holding a covered tray over his head. A guard was standing outside.  
  
"Don't take too long, elf," he said bitterly.  
  
Dobby stuck his tongue out at the door, then turned back to Hermione. "Dobby was hearing that you is hungry, Miss!" Dobby ran over to Hermione as fast as his little legs could go. He lifted the lid and brandished the plate of chicken and potatoes in front of her, and set it on the floor along with a cup of water. Hermione's thoughts of starvation quickly drifted away.  
  
"Dobby!" Hermione smiled and stared at the plate of food. "Thank you so much."  
  
'See,' she told herself, 'Dumbledore wouldn't starve a student.'  
  
She started eating the chicken with her bare hands. "I hope you don't mind me being a little rude," she said through a full mouth. "I haven't eaten all day."  
  
"Oh, Dobby isn't caring about manners now." His face became downcast. "Dobby listened to his master talk outside of the kitchens. Dobby heard what happened to his Harry Potter." Large tears began to swell in Dobby's huge eyes. "He. he."  
  
Hermione swallowed her food, waiting for Dobby to accuse her of murder, but he did no such thing. Instead, he offered her a napkin.  
  
"Um, Dobby," Hermione said, wiping her hands, "you know why I'm down here, don't you?"  
  
"Of course," he said. "Professor Snape told Dobby everything."  
  
Hermione groaned inwardly. Of all people to tell the house elves what had happened. Snape probably made her out to be a monster or a backstabber (probably both). He might have even added his own personal lies into the mix of rumors.  
  
"What exactly did Professor Snape tell the house elves?" Hermione asked, almost hesitantly.  
  
"Oh." Dobby turned his head, his ears flopping around loosely, making sure that nobody could hear him. "Professor Snape didn't tell all house elves."  
  
"He didn't?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide.  
  
Dobby shook his head. "He tells it only to Dobby. He says nobody else is to know that I is giving you such good food. Professor Snape tells Dobby to give you good food. Master Dumbledore thinks you is doing bad things, and he tells Dobby to give Miss Hermione only bread and cheese and no more glasses to break. But Dobby is disobeying." Dobby looked very concerned at himself for not listening to Dumbledore.  
  
"Wait," Hermione said, trying to piece everything together. "You heard Professor Dumbledore telling somebody that I killed Harry, and that I was only allowed to eat bread and cheese." Dobby nodded his head. "But Professor Snape came later," Hermione continued, "and told you to feed me this good food?" Dobby nodded again.  
  
"Why would he do something like that?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Because," Dobby whispered with wide eyes, "he told Dobby that he knows you haven't killed Harry Potter." 


	4. Witness

Hermione massaged her temples and shook her head. "I'm sorry Dobby, I think I just hallucinated. did you say that Snape knows I'm innocent?"  
  
Dobby nodded, his huge eyes unblinking with certainty.  
  
Her mind raced. 'Snape knows? Then why doesn't he tell anyone? He's not that cruel, is he?'  
  
"Dobby cannot stay long," he said, pulling up one of his large socks. "Guard might think Dobby here too long and become suspicious." He placed a hand on Hermione's knee and whispered, "Tomorrow, Dobby is hearing, you will get out to have wand tested."  
  
Hermione's eyes lit up. "Prior Incantato! Josh did it!" She smiled in relief and felt like dancing, but Dobby's face turned anxious and he stared at the door.  
  
"What is it?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Shhh," Dobby whispered. "Someone else out theres, miss." Hermione heard some voices. It was the guard that had come with Dobby, and somebody else.  
  
"I can take over," the new voice said.  
  
"That stupid elf is taking forever," the old guard said. "I really should tell Dumbledore."  
  
"No!" the new voice shouted. "I mean, you shouldn't worry about it. Just go ahead and take a break."  
  
"Thanks." And with that, the first guard left.  
  
When his footsteps were gone, Hermione stood up and tried to look out the barred window at the top of the door again.  
  
"Hermione?" the new guard whispered, and his eyes appeared at the window.  
  
"Josh!" Hermione ran over and stuck her arms through the bars. Josh grasped one of her hands.  
  
"I did it, Hermione. Tomorrow morning at seven we're going to test your wand!"  
  
"I know, I know," Hermione withdrew the hand that Josh wasn't holding, and used it to pull herself up further on her tiptoes so she could see him. "Thank you," Hermione whispered.  
  
"It was the least I could do," Josh whispered back. His eyes dropped to her hand, which he was cradling in both of his own. He gave it a reassuring squeeze, then turned his gaze back to Hermione.  
  
His face was very close to her own, but Hermione wasn't embarrassed. She wished more than anything that she could fall right through the door and hug him. Her calf muscles began to burn from tiptoeing for so long, but she ignored the pain.  
  
"Also, I contacted your parents," Josh said. "They'll be here tomorrow." Hermione smiled and tears started to form in the corners of her eyes. Josh reached through the bars and used his thumb to wipe them away.  
  
"Josh," she whispered, "I don't know how to thank you-"  
  
"Shh." He touched his finger to her lips. Her lips, which began to reach closer and closer to Josh's through the metal bars-  
  
"Miss Hermione!" Dobby interrupted, pulling on her shirt. Hermione looked down at him, annoyed. "Someones is coming down the stairs!"  
  
"I need to leave," Josh said, backing away from the door. "Hurry up, house elf!" Dobby obediently gathered up the tray and disappeared, reappearing in the corridor next to Josh. "I'll see you tomorrow, Hermione," Josh kissed the back of her hand, and she withdrew it back through the window. "Good luck," he said, and with that, he and Dobby trotted away.  
  
Hermione retreated to the corner and sat on the cold concrete, waiting for whoever it was to get there. She let herself stare at a spider in the corner as the light footsteps approached. Hermione wasn't sure who she dreaded it would be, but her hands began to shake nervously nonetheless. The arachnid scurried into a crack when the light underneath the door became shadowed.  
  
"Hermione?" It was Ron. He was easily tall enough to see through the barred window and into the room.  
  
"Yeah, I'm in here," she replied, getting up off the floor. Her feelings became horribly mixed as his voice echoed through the cell. She was happy it was Ron, or perhaps those were just lingering feelings from Josh's visit. Remembering his emotional breakdown and heartfelt hug after she had woken up, Hermione felt lost. Did he really care about her, or just for Harry? Had he been there for her at all?  
  
"Ew," Ron said, looking into the room, desperately forcing a tone of lightheartedness. "Not very large in there at all, is it?"  
  
"No, it's not," she answered shortly. "Is there any particular reason why you're here, other than to comment on the size of my cell?"  
  
"I wanted to see how you were."  
  
"Oh, I'm doing wonderfully," she snapped. At that, Ron's face creased painfully and Hermione instantly regretted her harshness. There was a long, awkward pause. Maybe he did care about her. "Look. I'm sorry," she said. "It hasn't been the best of days today, has it?" Ron shook his head.  
  
Hermione's heart pounded as she spoke. "I didn't kill Harry."  
  
Ron gave an unexpected jolt. "What?"  
  
"I didn't kill him, Ron. You believe me, don't you?" Hermione took a step closer to the door.  
  
Ron hesitated, and then stuttered an inaudible answer.  
  
"What did you say?" She asked, taking another step closer.  
  
"I don't know." he murmured.  
  
"What do you mean you don't know?" she shouted. "You know me! You know what I would and wouldn't do! I would never."  
  
"I thought I knew you, Hermione!" he shouted back, hitting the metal door with the palm of his hand, which made Hermione jump suddenly. His eyes became wrinkled with hurt and he shook his head. "Until this year, I thought I knew the real Hermione Granger."  
  
"Ron. listen," she said gently.  
  
"No, you listen!" he yelled. "I was ready to believe you! The moment I heard what had happened, I was going to stick with you until the end. For the past week, Harry told me that you started talking to him again, even after all that time. He said that you two were mending old wounds." Ron narrowed his eyes at her. "Mending old wounds. I should have known it was all just an act."  
  
"Ron, I."  
  
"You were just trying to get close to him!"  
  
"I didn't--!"  
  
"Close enough to kill him!"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Don't you dare lie to me! There was a witness, Hermione!"  
  
The dungeon became painfully silent except for the soft roar of the torches.  
  
"What did you say?" Hermione whispered.  
  
"I would've believed you," Ron said softly as he stepped away from the small window, "but someone saw you do it." He stared at her for a few moments, then turned his back and walked away. 


	5. Deleterious

Hermione allowed herself to slide her back down the wall and to the ground. She brought her shaking knees to her chest and grasped her cold toes with her even colder fingers.  
  
'A witness?' Hermione thought, stunned. 'How could that be? I couldn't...' She rested her chin in the groove between her knees. She felt her heart weakly pulsing against her thighs. Perhaps her own memory of herself before fifth year would never kill Harry, but Ron made it clear that she was a different person. Maybe there was a chance, a slim chance, that she did kill Harry.  
  
'But that's not me anymore!' she told herself. 'I'm not the same person I was last week.'  
  
Hermione stayed up very late that night, if not due to the biting cold floor, then because of what seemed to be her mind arguing with her feelings. She finally fell asleep insisting to herself that no matter what changes she had gone through that year, she would never kill Harry.  
  
'What about the witness?.'  
  
~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~  
  
"Harry, could I talk to you?"  
  
"Sure, Hermione, but I thought you said you were never going to speak to me again."  
  
"Yeah, about that... I'm really sorry. I got myself into a big mess and now I can't get out."  
  
"And you need my help? Is that the only reason you're talking to me?"  
  
"No! No. It's because I realized that I made a mistake by pushing you and Ron away. I made some bad choices. Some really bad choices and I don't know how to get out."  
  
"Does this have to do with that deal you made earlier this year?"  
  
"How--how did you know about that?"  
  
"It doesn't matter, but if you back out of it..."  
  
"See, that's the problem. If I do, he says he'll kill me."  
  
"Kill you?"  
  
There was a long pause.  
  
"Was he serious?"  
  
"Yeah, he was."  
  
"Well, then of course I'll help you. On one condition, though."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Can we put the rest of the year behind us? Just forget it entirely?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~  
  
"Wake up." Hermione jumped out of her sleep.  
  
"Wake up, it's time for your wand testing." An unnaturally large guard stood in the doorway.  
  
"Hermione? Hermione are you in there?" Hermione stopped rubbing her eyes and smiled broadly. It was her mother.  
  
"I'm in here, mum!" She grinned as her tiny mother pushed her way authoritatively past the guard. At only five-foot three, Hermione's mother was about an inch shorter than her daughter, and about a foot shorter than the guard.  
  
"Oh, Hermione! I was so worried when I heard you were down here. Oh, sweetie, you're freezing!" Her mother had enveloped her in a hug, then started feeling Hermione's forehead and cheeks. "I hope you didn't catch anything down here."  
  
Normally, Hermione hated her mother's fussing, but for the first time in Hermione's life, it was welcome.  
  
"Mum, I'm fine. Especially now that you're here." They embraced again, Hermione's mother wrapped her own extra sweater across Hermione's shoulders.  
  
"It's time to go," the guard said impatiently. He held up something that looked like handcuffs, but were glowing an odd neon orange color. Hermione imagined they had a no-escape spell on them.  
  
"I don't think so," Hermione's mother said with her hands on her tiny hips. "My daughter will not wear those."  
  
The guard towered over the small woman menacingly, but she kept her ground. "All right," he said with a sigh. "But she'll have to put 'em on once we get to the fifth floor. Dumbledore's orders."  
  
Hermione and her mother walked behind the guard, talking the entire way up.  
  
"Where's daddy?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Oh, he's out of the country this week. There's an important dental seminar over in the states and he didn't have time to fly back home."  
  
"I wish he were here," Hermione lamented.  
  
"It's probably for the best," her mother said. "You know how protective your father is. He'd make an awful scene if he knew what happened. If I were Dumbledore, and your father were here, I'd fear for my life."  
  
Hermione nodded. Her dad was very protective of her.  
  
"I have to put these on you now," the guard said as they reached the fifth floor.  
  
"You'd better be glad, sir, that her father isn't here," her mother threatened the guard as he clasped Hermione's arms behind her back. "Because you'd be knocked unconscious he were."  
  
"I'm sure," he said, rolling his eyes. "This way." He led them to a room that Hermione recognized as an empty classroom, and he opened the door. She remembered the countless times she and Harry and Ron had retreated into this very classroom to practice for the Triwizard Tournament. Hermione took a deep breath as her mother gave one of her restrained arms a reassuring squeeze, and they walked in.  
  
Inside, a handful of people were sitting and waiting. She spotted Josh in the corner. Dumbledore was in the front of the room, next to McGonagall and Snape. A man she didn't recognize was sitting with her wand in his lap. Finally, in the corner across from Josh, a hunched figure sat. Hermione couldn't see his face.  
  
Before she could become too curious, she was led to a chair near the front, and sat down. Her mother took a place next to her.  
  
"Hermione Granger," the man holding her wand said. "Is this your wand?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Have you used anyone else's wand in the past 3 months? If so, then in what context?"  
  
She was about to answer that she couldn't remember, but she caught Josh's eye in the corner. "Yes, I used Mr. Grumpki's wand to perform a healing charm."  
  
"Which Mr. Grumpki?" the man asked. She suddenly realized that the man talking to her must have been Josh's brother, the Auror. It was an odd shock, because she expected another scarred and disfigured human like Moody, not a flawless news-reporter type person.  
  
"Josh Grumpki," she nodded to Josh.  
  
"Can you confirm that, Mr. Grumpki?" his brother asked. Josh answered yes. Hermione hated the formal questioning. She wanted to get her wand tested so she could finally be deemed innocent.  
  
"Mr. Krum," Josh's brother said. Hermione straightened up, and looked to where he was addressing. It was Viktor sitting in the corner. At first Hermione was relieved, thinking that somebody else might be on her side. Then her eyes met his. Hermione's breath caught in her throat and she felt choked by inexplicable fear.  
  
"Mr. Krum is this the wand you witnessed Hermione Granger using to perform the Avada Kedavra curse on Harry Potter?" Hermione's heart raced as Viktor gave his answer.  
  
"Yes."  
  
It was Viktor Krum. He was the witness. Hermione had little time to dwell on how or why he was even at Hogwarts in the first place. Her wand was about to be tested, so she tore her eyes away from Krum's dark gaze.  
  
Josh's brother held her wand vertically in front of him while Dumbledore performed the spell.  
  
"Prior Incantato!"  
  
His wand touched the tip of Hermione's and something began to grow between the two of them. It was difficult to tell what it was, because it was like a combination of something solid and a ball of smoke.  
  
The smoke began to take a more familiar shape as it grew to the size of a person. It became less foggy and more solid, but somehow more faded into darkness than an actual human.  
  
The shadow of Harry Potter stood in the center of the room, his eyes filled with pain as he stared directly at Hermione.  
  
A tear fell down her cheek, but she felt so numb it wasn't noticed until it reached the bottom of her chin  
  
Harry's smoky form opened his mouth, forming words that were inaudible to the living world.  
  
"Deleterious." Someone said the spell to counteract Prior Incantato.  
  
Harry closed his mouth. Hermione felt herself lose consciousness as his shadow faded away. 


	6. Professor Kinsley

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Hermione, what's wrong with you?"  
  
"Nothing's wrong with me, Harry!"  
  
"Then why are you acting like this? You haven't been to meals, and you skipped class the other day."  
  
"I didn't skip. I told you I wasn't feeling good."  
  
"Parvati said you weren't in the dormitory. so where were you?"  
  
"It's none of your business!"  
  
"Yes it is my business! We're friends. Friends look out for each other, and I want to know why you're pushing me away!"  
  
"Well maybe you don't need to know because we aren't friends anymore!"  
  
". Hermione, you don't mean that."  
  
"Yes I do! I'm not speaking to a nosy prat like you ever again!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Hermione?" A gentle whisper tickled her ear, breaking the echo of forgotten voices. "Hermione wake up."  
  
She felt herself stir underneath a thin sheet and she slowly opened her eyes. The stony walls of the dungeon came into focus. Hermione shot up, looking at her surroundings. She was back in the dungeon. Her hands covered her mouth as she realized what had happened when her wand was tested.  
  
"Harry!" she said through her fingers.  
  
"Hermione, calm down," the voice said again. Hermione turned her attention to the person, who turned out to be an unfamiliar witch dressed in robes and a hat.  
  
"Who are you?" Hermione asked, almost to herself because there was something vaguely recognizable about the young woman.  
  
"It's just me," she answered. "It's okay, they let me come down here to be with you until you woke up."  
  
Hermione stared at the woman's face. "I'm-I'm sorry but I don't know you. I mean, I feel like I've seen you before. but I don't know who you are."  
  
The witch's eyes filled with an echo of hurt as her smooth face wrinkled faintly in uncertainty. "What do you mean you don't know me? Hermione, it's me, Professor Kinsley."  
  
Hermione shook her head. "I'm sorry."  
  
Professor Kinsley thought for a moment, then asked: "Hermione, what spell would you use to keep a Pogrebin away from you?"  
  
"A Pogrebin?" Hermione said. "We don't learn how to deal with them until-" She abruptly stopped.  
  
"Until when?" Professor Kinsley pressed.  
  
"Fifth year," Hermione whispered, gazing at the ground. She glanced back up at the professor. "You're the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, aren't you? That's how I recognize you."  
  
"Well, I'm not really new anymore. But yes, I was new at the beginning of this year." The teacher sighed. "It's true then. You did lose your memory."  
  
"Finally, somebody believes me," Hermione said leaning closer to the young woman. "Professor Kinsley, I didn't kill Harry. I couldn't have! Someone else must have stolen my wand."  
  
The professor looked at Hermione skeptically. "I have some things I should probably tell you," Professor Kinsley said. "Things that you've secretly told me this year, that you have most likely forgotten."  
  
Hermione listened intently as Professor Kinsley described their relationship. How Hermione had made an instant impression on her new professor, but Professor Kinsley had sensed something bothering her student. Hermione and her teacher had become fast friends at the beginning of the year but when the news came that Viktor Krum, the famous Quidditch player, would be coaching the Hogwarts' teams that year, Hermione was instantly distressed.  
  
"That day he had come, I'd never seen anybody so concerned as you were," Professor Kinsley said. "So I asked you, in private, to tell me what was really wrong. You told me how you went to his mansion that summer and had a wonderful time, but then you received an owl from him on the first week of school. It told you to meet him in the Forbidden Forest in secret the next day. You told me that you didn't really want to go, but went anyway, thinking it would be harmless. He showed up, evidently, with graphic pictures of abused house elves in Hogwarts; he told you it was Dumbledore who didn't let them eat until their work was done, or sleep at all. You said you didn't believe them at first, but Viktor swore to everything good that they were, and you trusted him. You told me about how you hated house elf enslavement, and this brought you to the edge. Viktor used his popularity and started a real committee against house elf enslavement, and you joined wholeheartedly."  
  
"Wow," Hermione commented. "I can't believe some other people finally realized how horrible it was getting. Dumbledore abusing house elves? That's probably why he hired Dobby. to cover up all the other stuff he was doing."  
  
"Well that's what you told yourself back in September, too," Professor Kinsley said. "You started to attend these meetings in secret, and grew distant from everyone, because they didn't share your passion." Professor Kinsley frowned and shook her head.  
  
"What?" Hermione asked. "What is it?"  
  
"The next part of the story. It's just. Well." She sighed. "You found out somehow that Viktor was lying. He had started working for Voldemort, and was using you to try to get rid of Dumbledore. You agreed, before you knew he was on the dark side, to try and get Dumbledore expelled from his position as headmaster because Viktor told you it was best to get him away from all those house elves. You did try, a good number of times, to get Dumbledore fired."  
  
"But Viktor was lying!" Hermione groaned. "How could I be so stupid? Without Dumbledore, Voldemort could get to the school!" She shook her head, and then looked into Professor Kinsley's eyes. "Did I confront him?"  
  
"Well, when you heard that Viktor was coming (this was after you found out he was lying) you were very worried because it meant he was going to try and get rid of Dumbledore himself, without you. You sent him an owl, threatening to expose his motives if he came."  
  
"What happened?" Hermione asked, wide-eyed with dread.  
  
"He threatened to kill you if you told."  
  
Hermione gasped. "Well, I told you. and so you told Dumbledore, didn't you?"  
  
"You begged me not to tell," Professor Kinsley said helplessly. "Begged me until you were in tears"  
  
"I was so stupid," Hermione sighed.  
  
"You were so scared," her teacher said. "Now, no matter what I tell Dumbledore, he won't listen. Apparently, he caught wind of the news that you were trying to get him sacked, and that the cover up story had to do with house elves. He didn't know that Krum was involved at all, and he's been through so much with Voldemort's followers lately, he won't listen to my explanations, especially since I kept your secrets from him for so long. It is quite unfortunate that this has happened just now, because a few weeks ago, a Death Eater was caught and tried to make himself look innocent by claiming to have lost his memory."  
  
"What am I going to do?" Hermione groaned. "There's no way out of this!"  
  
"I'm sorry," Professor Kinsley said quickly, looking at the dungeon door. "I really am, but I have to go. The guard is coming back and I'm only allowed here until you wake up."  
  
"What will I do?" Hermione said. "You'll help me, won't you?"  
  
"I'll try, Hermione, really I will. Goodbye." The guard's footsteps were heard in the hallway and he opened the door. Professor Kinsley left.  
  
"Josh!" Hermione said when she saw his face, but he didn't smile or say anything to her.  
  
"Josh, are you okay?" She asked timidly.  
  
"You lied to me, Hermione," he said through a clenched jaw. "After everything I did for you."  
  
"No, I didn't! Josh, someone stole my wand!"  
  
"Be quiet!" he spat. "I listened to you once, and I won't make the same mistake again. I'm not doing anything else for you. You're a murderer!" He slammed the heavy door, leaving a metallic ring in Hermione's ears.  
  
"I'm not a murderer!" she yelled feebly, remembering Harry's smoky form coming from her wand. 'I'm not.' 


	7. Viktor Krum

Hermione felt emotionally drained as the hours passed. Small, unfamiliar house elves presented her with a meager lunch and dinner, and even a change of clothes. She sat on the thin bed, on which she had woken up earlier, and wished for a book to read.  
  
"Herm-own-ninny?" Hermione jumped at the strong, soothing male voice. She hadn't noticed anyone coming. "Herm-own-ninny, are you there?"  
  
It was Krum. She almost didn't answer him, but she let herself say, "I'm here."  
  
Krum's face was framed in the small barred window in the door. "I vonted to tell you that I am sorry for today," he said slowly. The odd evilness she had sensed earlier had vanished, and she saw the genuine, worried Krum that she knew so well.  
  
She shook herself mentally. 'What are you thinking?' she asked herself. 'He tried to make you look guilty, and Professor Kinsley said he threatened to kill me.'  
  
Hermione frowned at him. "You're sorry? Don't act like it was an accident or something."  
  
"No!" he said despairingly. "I made a mistake; I haff been vanting to tell you everything, but I haff not been allowed down here."  
  
"I know enough," Hermione said gruffly, wishing she had the ability to walk away from the conversation, or close the window, or do something to keep him from talking to him.  
  
"Please listen," he pleaded "I haff something for you. . . your wand. I haff your wand, Herm-own-ninny. . ."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A large fist landed heavily on Dumbledore's desk, sending a small glass trinket to the floor with a small clink.  
  
"You can't let them do this," Snape spat quietly, ignoring the broken ornament at his feet. His wild eyes caught Dumbledore's. "Surely you don't want her in Azkaban?"  
  
"I don't want anyone in Azkaban, least of all a young teenage girl, but she's out of my hands now, Severus." Dumbledore shook his head. "You've done enough trying to prove her innocence. Everything is stacked against her." Dumbledore waved his wand thoughtlessly, magiking the broken glass back to the top of his desk, and then placing his wand in front of him. "I am already observing our alliances against Voldemort breaking apart," he said. "The Bulgarians are threatening to separate from us if we take anyone else's word over Viktor Krum's."  
  
"Are they worth being our allies if they place that much trust in Krum?" Snape asked. "Viktor Krum's name has come up more than Hermione's in the latest questioning of the captured Death Eaters."  
  
"Severus, it is no longer a question of who did it. Harry Potter is dead and it's tearing everything apart. I'm trying to keep us together because it is precisely at a time like this that Voldemort will make his move." Dumbledore took a breath, an echo of pain in his blue eyes. "Somebody wanted this to happen, wanted to hinder our progress against Voldemort."  
  
"But why Hermione?" Snape argued. "She's muggle-born, and Voldemort's victory would produce results more disastrous for her than for a pure- blood."  
  
"Why Hermione?" Dumbledore replied. "Why Voldemort? Why anybody?" He sighed. "We can't focus on motive right now. The truth of the matter is that she has tried to hinder our side by attempting to take away my position as a leader numerous times."  
  
Snape sighed disgustedly. "I get it, now. You'll be just and noble as long as you have your authority but as soon as someone tries to take that away from you, they don't deserve justice."  
  
"She's gotten justice beyond what anyone else would have received in her position," Dumbledore said in an unnaturally loud voice. "A witness, a wand test, continuous strange behavior, and no testimony as to what happened; anyone else would have been guilty long ago. Even if she is innocent, trying to prove it to a jury will take time that our aurors don't have."  
  
"Veritaserum!" Snape said, as if he had suggested it before. "It's the easiest way to find the answer. I can make the truth potion myself-"  
  
"That will take weeks to prepare," Dumbledore said. "The wizards and witches from Europe-from all over the world-don't want to wait. Our alliances with them are more important right now. Once this is over we will be able to move forward in our fight. If we let this stop us, who knows how much control Voldemort will gain?"  
  
"So we'll just toss her into Azkaban, when there's still a chance, however little that she's innocent?" Snape swallowed and said, "That's not the Dumbledore I used to know. That's not the Dumbledore Harry Potter knew."  
  
Dumbledore looked sadly into Snape's eyes at the accusation. He opened his mouth to argue, and then closed it again, suddenly torn as to what to say or do.  
  
Snape put his hands on the desk and leaned toward Dumbledore, speaking in a whisper. "You know there's a chance, Albus. Don't let everything she tried to do to you get in the way. You know that Krum's word can't be trusted, and Greta Kinsley's story about Krum's death threats isn't entirely farfetched. If Hermione is telling the truth, she could know more about the whereabouts of undercover Death Eaters than any of our aurors."  
  
Dumbledore licked his dry lips and pressed them together. "Still a chance." he murmured, gazing off into middle infinity for a few moments then looking at Snape. "How long until you will have a vial of potion ready?"  
  
"Fifteen days," Snape said concretely, straightening himself in front of the desk.  
  
"So be it," Dumbledore said. "This is the last test, Severus. I can't afford to spend more time on this."  
  
"Yes sir..."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
  
  
((This is where I reply to your reviews, because I love that kind of communication))  
  
Trisana - I'm glad you like the story, and hope I updated soon enough for you. I know this chapter is quite short, but it simply turned out that way (despite the amount of time I spent writing) :)  
  
Twilight - Yeah, I've become quite attached to Josh, and it sucked having to make him say things like that. Although we don't know exactly what happened yet, we're getting closer to finding out, so don't worry.  
  
Serpentine Princess - Thank you very much for the compliments  
  
KeeperOfTheMoon - Yes, it looks like her wand was used to kill him, but remember that Harry's wand was used to make the Dark Mark in GoF.  
  
PyroAndrea - Thank you, and I hope you've noted the added chapters.  
  
EmmaMalfoy - Lol, I hope you mean strange in a good way. : ) Thanks for putting me on your fav's list, btw. 


	8. Elucidation

*CHAPTER UPDATED* December 22 . .  
  
Hermione reached out her hand and grasped her wand, the soft, firm rosewood settling familiarly in her palm. She cautiously looked up at Krum, who withdrew his arm back through the bars and returned her stare with an assured glance.  
  
"It is okay, Herm-own-ninny," he said, "I am here to help."  
  
Hermione's heart did a funny skip as he gave her a small smile. The feeling of someone watching her and smiling at her without the expectation of an answer to a question made her blush ferociously, just like it used to when she first met him. She bit her lower lip, finding herself suddenly thinking about Josh.  
  
"Thank you," she managed to say, gripping the ends of the inflexible wood, "but why are you trying to help me? You're the witness."  
  
"It is a long story, and you need to know that I haff a reason for everything." Viktor's eyes lifted from the ground and focused on Hermione. "Vould you listen to me tell?"  
  
"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" She said, gesturing to the locked door.  
  
He shook his head. "No, you should choose. If you do not vish to hear it, then I von't force you to listen."  
  
Hermione scratched the back of her neck, trying desperately to sort out her thoughts. 'What's the harm in listening? The fact that he's giving me the choice to listen or not is noteworthy. But he's the one who got me into this mess. Why else would he give me the wand? Maybe he wants me to get into even more trouble.'  
  
Memories from the summer rushed through her mind's eye as she thought to herself. She had had a wonderful time with Viktor, but they both agreed it would be best to just be friends. He had always been so sweet; the scant animosity he had in him only surfaced when they had gone to a pre- professional Quidditch match and the referee was blatantly ignoring dangerous fouls. 'Get him down!' Viktor had yelled. 'Someone vill get hurt!' It was hard to believe he would just turn to Voldemort.  
  
"Herm-own-ninny?"  
  
She looked back up at Krum. "Okay," she sighed. "Yes, tell me everything." Hermione walked over to the bed and sat on its edge, hoping she was prepared to hear whatever he might say.  
  
"I am very sorry about saying bad things about you, but. . ." Viktor looked back and forth down the dungeon hallways. ". . . but I haff no other choice," he whispered.  
  
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.  
  
"You cannot tell anyone," he warned gently, "but I got a letter that told me if I did not say I saw you kill Harry, that my family vould be harmed." Krum shook his head. "I could not let something happen to them, so I did it."  
  
Hermione swallowed dryly as he continued.  
  
"It vos a letter from You-Know-Who, or von of his followers, and I belieffed it." Krum gripped the metal bars tightly as he talked and Hermione could see his knuckles turning white, even in the low torch light of the dungeon.  
  
"What about before all this happened?" She asked.  
  
Viktor nodded as he said, "They told me you lost your memory. How much haff you forgotten?" His eyes became concerned. "Haff you forgotten. . . our summer?"  
  
"No," Hermione couldn't help but smile a bit as he sighed. If she had been him, she wouldn't have wanted to forget that summer, either. "No, I remember up to the train ride."  
  
"Ahh, I remember," Viktor said. "It vos in the Daily Prophet. The train stopped because the dark mark vos ahead on the tracks."  
  
"Really?" Hermione asked. "What happened?"  
  
"Nothing," he said, "the mark didn't mean anything, they thought. But the train vos very late, the newspaper said, because it stopped for so long making sure it vos safe to keep going."  
  
Neither of them said anything for a few awkward moments. Hermione shifted her weight atop the bed, mindlessly picking one of her curly hairs off the sheets and dropping it to her side.  
  
"I suppose you vont to know why I came to Hogwarts?" Viktor asked.  
  
"It was because of Quidditch, wasn't it?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Hermione's heart began to beat fast. "It wasn't only for Quidditch, though?"  
  
".no, it vos not. Herm-own-ninny, you cannot tell anyone this, but I haff been here as a spy for the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic."  
  
There was a very long, uncomfortable pause as Krum and Hermione tried to read each others' faces at the same time.  
  
"What kind of spy?" Hermione asked cautiously.  
  
"Vell, the Ministry in my country has been very curious about Dumbledore. They do not think he tells them everything he knows, so I came here for them to tell if he vos or not."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because they are not exactly hearing the same things from their own aurors as they are from Dumbledore. They think he keeps secrets about You-Know- Who."  
  
Hermione instinctively felt like she should defend her Headmaster, but her lips pursed together, spitefully remembering the new, unsympathetic Dumbledore that had placed her down in the dungeon. "Did I ever know you were a spy?" She questioned.  
  
Krum sighed. "You vere not supposed to find out. One day you found a picture of a house elf or something and vere very upset about it." Hermione's eyebrows rose. "You looked for me and found me as I wrote a letter to the Minister of Bulgaria and you kept asking questions until I told."  
  
Hermione dry tongue licked her lips like sandpaper. Professor Kinsley was lying. Viktor didn't show her the picture, she had found it on her own. Why would she say that? Unless he was lying.  
  
"Herm-own-ninny are you all right?" Krum looked at her through the bars. "You keep looking like you are haffing daydreams."  
  
"Sorry, I'm fine," she said. "So I found out you were a spy-" she prompted, waiting to hear how similar his story would be to Professor Kinsley's.  
  
"Yes, and you told me you voodn't tell anyone. Vell, you told your teacher and you said she got mad at you and told you to stay away from me."  
  
"Which teacher?" Hermione asked. 'Professor Kinsley?"  
  
Viktor nodded.  
  
"Why was she mad?"  
  
"I am not sure," he said, "but I do not think you should believe anything she says to you. she is not on our side."  
  
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, suddenly angered by his accusation. "She's a teacher! And besides, she's the one who came down here and told me everything before you or anyone else did."  
  
Krum's eyes subtly changed as Hermione spoke. "Vhat did she tell you?"  
  
"It's not your business, Viktor Krum!" She said turning away from his stare.  
  
"But she is not safe!" he said. "You should not think that everything she says is the truth just because she vos the one to talk to you first. She could have made everything up and she knew you voodn't know any better."  
  
"Go away!" Hermione said, feeling tears burn behind her eyes.  
  
"Herm-own-ninny," he pleaded, "I am telling the truth."  
  
"Well you should have thought about telling the truth before lying to the aurors about seeing me kill Harry."  
  
"I had no choice!" he said. "My family."  
  
"Well what about Dumbledore?" Hermione asked. "Why did he turn against me?"  
  
"Because you tried to get him fired," Viktor said. "Professor Kinsley's father is a Death Eater and she let him met you early in the year. He told you if you didn't get Dumbledore fired he vould kill you. He told your teacher to make sure you did it."  
  
Professor Kinsley's father. kill her. Hermione let her tears of frustration out.  
  
"Don't cry," Krum sighed.  
  
"Shut up!" she sobbed with her eyes shut, gripping her wand tightly with both hands. "I can't believe you."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"You don't know what it's like!" Hermione screamed, tears running down her cheeks and into the corners of her mouth. "I can't believe anybody, not even myself! Something happened to me, and everyone thinks I'm either a murderer or a liar. I don't even know if I did it or not!"  
  
"Herm-own-ninny-"  
  
"Stop!" she yelled, the sound of her voice echoing through the hall. "Even if you are telling the truth," she said quietly, staring at the floor, "it means Professor Kinsley is lying. I trusted her." Hermione wiped her eyes and thought out loud, "How can I trust anyone?"  
  
"I brought your vond so you voold believe me," Viktor said. "I vant to help you out of here. She did nothing for you down here except lie to you so you voold not listen to me when I could talk to you." He paused. "You know me, Herm-own-ninny, from before all this happened. You do not know her."  
  
*~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~*  
  
Severus Snape began working on the complex Veritaserum at midnight, the time when the first two ingredients were required to be mixed. He moved the Truth Potion from the classroom to his office, careful to not burn his fingers on the small cauldron while walking. He spotted the young security guard sulking outside his office.  
  
"Can I help you?" he asked the guard. The boy snapped out of his daze.  
  
"Oh, no, sorry. I was just walking around."  
  
Severus got an idea.  
  
"Young man, do you have security clearance to go to the dungeons?"  
  
"Y-yes." he answered hesitantly.  
  
"Could you tell Ms. Granger that she will be given Truth Potion in two weeks time?"  
  
The boy's face changed. "Is she. I mean. do you still think she might be innocent?"  
  
Snape nodded, knowing this was the guard who helped get her wand tested.  
  
"Yes sir! I'll go right now!"  
  
Josh practically ran down to the dungeons, eager to apologize to Hermione about everything. If Severus Snape thought there was a chance, perhaps she really was innocent. Josh's feet slipped down the stony steps and he raced around the corner at the bottom of the stairs into the dark hallway.  
  
He stopped.  
  
The corridor was filled with gray and brown dust; the torches burned eerily through the tiny particles.  
  
"Hermione? Are you okay?" he yelled.  
  
He walked closer, stepping over large chunks of stone. He squinted through the dust and saw her cell, opened. The heavy door had been blasted off from the inside. Hermione was gone.  
  
  
  
  
  
KeeperOfTheMoon - Yes, Dumbledore turned a little bit nicer. It took a lot, obviously, to get him to change his mind because he's very preoccupied with Voldie right now.  
  
LizzieDiagon - Thank you for your kind review, hope you keep reading.  
  
Tomfeltongirl - What an interesting review. lol, and a humorous one at that : ) I give you more!  
  
An Ebony Flame - Thanks for putting me on your favs! Your Petunia story is great, I hope you update it soon. I dished out more for you in the meantime ; )  
  
TaMara R - Yeah, I'm not a huge Snape fan, but I thought it would be ironic if he would be on one side, because of his undercover work.  
  
Amorya - Hey, I hope you like the new chapter as much as the last one  
  
Hpdigital - I dunno about Dumbledore. I mean, I tried to show that Hermione was suspicious enough for even him to not believe her. We still don't know exactly what she did to him to make him not trust her, but I tried to make him more Dumbledory as the story progressed  
  
Emma Malfoy - yeah, I like to stray from the usual HP fanfiction. I try to create really out-there plots, but try to keep the characters and the language the same as the books. Hopefully I've done that.  
  
Cous-cous - Well. Josh is in the picture again, at least. I guess it's the readers' opinion if things are actually looking up for her or not.  
  
Trisana - I think this cliffy was probably worse. well, there ya go! 


	9. Trust Indeed

Author's Note Thank you all for your patience. I'm getting back in the groove of picking up old fics, even ones left behind for almost two whole years. I have resolved to finish every single one of my fics before starting any new ones, so here's to finishing. There are about three more chapters to come for this one before I declare it's ending. Please enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. 

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Viktor Krum held Hermione's hand, their fast footsteps echoing off the dark, empty buildings of Hogsmeade. Hermione was out of breath, but didn't say so as they reached the foot of a hill. The cobblestone road ended at a slight incline, dissolving into a hard dirt path that began creeping up the steep hillside. Hermione swallowed thickly, her mouth like cotton from the extraordinarily long run from Hogwarts and through Hogsmeade.

The only thought that ran through Hermione's mind was what everyone would be thinking when they found out she was gone. They would assume an innocent person wouldn't attempt to escape. She half-hoped that Professor Kinsley would discover the mess in the dungeons, eventually realizing that Krum had told Hermione the truth about everything.

"Viktor," Hermione managed to breathe as they reached the crest of the hill. "Viktor, I need to stop." Her leg muscles were tingling uncomfortably from their extensive use, especially because she had barely used them at all in the past few days. Krum stopped and let Hermione sit in the shadow of a tall tree, while he surveyed their surroundings from the top of the hill.

"You are doing the right thing," he assured her as she caught her breath. "The Bulgarian Ministry vill make sure you are safe."

She hoped so. She tried to see Hogwarts over the mess of trees and hills that scattered the edges of Hogsmeade. Viktor was staring somewhere to his left; Hermione followed his gaze and found a small cluster of lights barely visible through the tops of the trees. Was that Hogwarts, or were those torches moving? Were they already out looking for her? Or was that her paranoia?

The fact that Aurors were in the castle at the time of her escape did not comfort Hermione, since they were the best at capturing the most cunning of Death Eaters. This strengthened her resolve to continue her journey with Viktor.

He told her that because of his ties to the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic, he could get them safely to Bulgaria, without being captured. A friend was meeting them in a muggle town and from there they could travel by car to a remote area where they would continue on broomsticks. Hermione wasn't keen about traveling on a broomstick, never having fully mastered the feel of it; she was much better at watching other people fly.

She stood up, stretching out her painfully overused legs.

"I can keep going," she said. Krum turned to her, smiled slightly, and led the way down the other side of the hill.

The muggle town was remarkably close to Hogsmeade, and they were on the paved main road before Hermione needed another rest. Krum slowed to a walk, and Hermione followed suit; he was looking at the signs on the muggle stores, obviously searching for a specific one.

He stopped at a Laundromat and followed the drive that curved around to the back of the store. There, a nondescript black van waited in the shadow of an overgrown oak tree, and Krum gave Hermione a significant glance. The driver beckoned them to come closer. This was Krum's Bulgarian friend. Through the heavily tinted window, Hermione could see the driver pointing to the back of the van. Krum gave him a thumbs-up.

"He vants us to get in the back," he whispered. "That vay nobody vill see us during the drive."

Hermione followed him to the back, uneasily looking over her shoulder, half-expecting a group of Aurors to turn the corner into the dark alley.

"It is okay, nobody followed us," Krum said, attempting to assuage her fears. He opened the back door. "Just get in."

Hermione couldn't see into the van at all, and blindly hoisted herself over the bumper and into the empty blackness.

Except the van wasn't empty. Hermione's hand landed what felt like somebody's clothed leg. She reached out to feel if someone was actually there. The back door slammed shut.

"Viktor?" Hermione asked, unable to mask the fear in her voice. "Viktor, where are you?"

Her hand was still outstretched, and she felt a large hand grab her wrist.

"No!" she screamed, feeling the van lurch into motion. Another hand grabbed her other wrist, and then another pinned down her leg. There was more than one person in the back with her, and she couldn't see anything. A sickness dropped into her stomach unlike any she'd ever felt. She'd heard stories about teenage girls being kidnapped and they all wound up the same way: raped and murdered.

"Let me go!" she yelled, hoping for someone outside the van to hear her. "Please!"

More hands held her down. There were at least four men in the back of the van with her, their eight strong arms wrapping around her like an octopus. One of the hands wrapped around her neck and she stopped screaming.

"Don't hurt her," she heard Krum's voice from the front.

"Don't vorry, _Viktor_," the one holding her neck mocked, but he loosened his grip so she could breathe.

Hermione's heart was beating out of control as she was completely pinned to the floor of the van. She didn't have a chance at escaping this time.

The men started jabbering in German at each other and the dim overhead light of the van turned on. Four men, none of whom were familiar to Hermione, were holding down her arms and legs. A fifth rummaged through a bag near Hermione's head.

"Let me go," she gasped feebly through her constricted throat.

"All in good time, cupcake," the one looking through the bag answered in an American accent. He produced a thin vial of clear liquid and popped off the cork.

This is it, Hermione thought to herself, shutting her eyes and mouth tightly.

"Oh, come on now, lamb," the American chided. "Don't make me do somethin' I don't wanna do."

He clamped her nose shut. Hermione held her breath for as long as she could, but the instant she opened her mouth to breathe, the contents of the vial were dumped into her mouth.

She choked on it, trying not to swallow, but it went down unmercifully quickly.

"What's you're name?" the American asked.

"Hermione," she heard someone answer.

"How old're you?"

"Sixteen."

Hermione's heart felt like it stopped. She was answering their questions without meaning to. It sounded like someone else's voice, but it was hers. Veritaserum, her foggy memory suddenly remembered.

"Do you remember anything from this past year?"

"I have dreams," she heard, "but I never remember them in the morning."

_I do?_ Hermione didn't know that Veritaserum could override memory loss.

"Did you see Harry Potter die?"

"Yes."

_I did?_

"Did you see someone in the forest chasing Harry that night?"

"Yes."

_Ask me,_ Hermione thought suddenly. _Go ahead, I want to know the truth._

"Was your wand used to produce the killing spell?"

"Yes."

_Just ask the real question._

"Were you holding the wand at the time?"

"Yes."

If Hermione's heart had been stopped before, it was making up for it by beating furiously now.

"Hermione, did you kill Harry Potter?"

"Yes."


End file.
